


The Gentle Grip of Night's Unfolding Arms

by curiousherbal



Category: Mystic Messenger (Video Game)
Genre: 707 | Choi Luciel's Route, Crying, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Mystic Messenger Day 7, Panic Attacks, Protective 707 | Choi Luciel, Reader is Main Character (Mystic Messenger), She/her pronouns, Tenderness, Unresolved Emotional Tension, Unresolved Romantic Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-10
Updated: 2020-07-10
Packaged: 2021-03-05 04:42:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,966
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25178620
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/curiousherbal/pseuds/curiousherbal
Summary: Despite it having been brewed two hours ago, the cup of tea on the bedside table wasn’t nearly as cold as the hacker sitting before you.
Relationships: 707 | Choi Luciel/Main Character, 707 | Choi Luciel/Reader
Comments: 13
Kudos: 166





	The Gentle Grip of Night's Unfolding Arms

**Author's Note:**

> hello~~ so happy to be posting my first fic written from a request on my tumblr @curiousherbal  
> This is actually based on the protective sentence starters prompt:
> 
> "You don't understand it now, but I'm trying to protect you."
> 
> This fic was tonally inspired by the beautiful song "You are the Moon" by one of my favourite bands -- The Hush Sound.  
> I recommend listening to that to get the sort of mood I was in when writing this.
> 
> please enjoy xx

Despite it having been brewed two hours ago, the cup of tea on the bedside table wasn’t nearly as cold as the hacker sitting before you.

Though you’ve had your fair share of tumultuous events in your upbringing, the past couple hours spent in a dead girl’s apartment surely took the cake for being the most dramatic of the bunch.

One minute you were attempting to fix yourself a mug cake, and the next your phone was suddenly being virtually accosted with increasingly frantic calls and texts.

_A sudden crash of breaking glass—_

_You, whipping your head to gaze incredulously at the broken window of the 14 th floor apartment._

_A pale, shaky hand with slender knob-knuckled fingers clamping over your mouth._

_Erratic, moist breath hissing into your ear._

_Bleached white hair tickling your neck._

_A flash of ginger and widening honey coloured eyes._

And just like that, your hacker in shining black hoodie had arrived, saving you in the nick of time – as if the entire situation couldn’t get more movie-type cliché than it had already been.

But despite the whirlwind progression of the past 7 days’ events, your fairytale seemed to reach a premature climax.

The cause of your current grief sat on the cold, hardwood floor just meters before you. His headphones were clamped firmly over his ears, his eyes carefully downcast, silently refusing to put you at ease with even the slightest glance.

Not even temptations of steaming Earl Grey nor calming scents of chamomile could entice him.

You turned your cheek to rest it upon your knee, your eyes making vacant sweeps, circling the bright yellow rings on his hoodie.

No, your fated meeting with Seven was anything but what you had hoped it would be.

Seven was…. _mean_.

Seven was… _unyielding_.

Seven was… _incapable of love_??

You shook your head, desperately trying to stifle the telltale warning of tears that pricked at the corners of your eyes. _I knew him for what?? 7 days? Stop being so pathetic._

But even so, it would be futile to ignore the hurt that now permeated through your core, now plaguing your mind with anxious, restless, relentless thoughts.

You had tried to comfort him after the shock of seeing his long-long, now-tormented, brother:

_“Give me some space.”_

You expressed an honest desire for mutual expression of your shared emotional traumas:

_“Don’t try to get so close to me.”_

And, gritting your teeth, you had attempted to take care of him from a purely human-needs perspective:

_“Maybe you should just pretend that I’m not here.”_

So your tea sat cold. And his tea sat cold. You sat on the bed. And he sat on the floor. You plead silently with your troubled gaze. So he turned his back.

Both of you too stubborn twin stars, chasing the trailing end of one another, but always just slightest out of sync. The alignment of your traveled paths, something as uncertain as the mercurial man in front of you.

And now, here you sat. Your knees cradled to your chest; your arms wrapped loosely around your shins. And you contemplated the possibility that your premature and ill-fated first meeting with Seven had forever knocked you both out of each other’s orbits.

“Seven…”

The click-clack of his fingers over his keyboard persisted.

“Seven.”

Click clack. Click clack.

“I know you’re not ever listening to anything through those expensive headphones.”

His fingers stilled momentarily. A pause.

They resumed.

“You can’t ever listen to anything,” you began as you inhaled a shaky breath, unsure if engaging in conversation with the young man would worsen your already fractured relationship.

“—because you need to be aware of your surroundings. I know you’re purposefully ignoring me. I get it; you need to work, bud.”

Carefully, the hacker gently lifted his headphones off, resting them against his neck. He turned his head slightly to the left, as if to get you in his peripheral vision.

“Did you…. Did you just call me ‘Bud’?”

Your face flushed red.

“An honest mistake, I assure you.” You sniffed airily and turned so that you were lying back down on the bed, your back to him. “You made it quite clear that we aren’t ‘buds’ earlier.”

You waited for a response, hoping he’d dig into your subtle jab as bait, but as the seconds ticked into a full minute, you soon picked up on the faint typing sounds emanating from his corner again.

The pang of hurt realized itself deep within your chest cavity again. The prick of tears resurfaced once more. Your head began to pound.

_He doesn’t even care. He doesn’t want to talk to me. He never liked me to begin with._

A cacophonous clatter of conflicting emotions welled within you.

Guilt – for being sad that Seven was neglecting you when he obviously had his own emotional issues with his brother so recently resurfaced.

Shame – for being so openly emotional and weakhearted around a boy you had barely known a full week, and had only just met in person several hours ago.

Embarrassment – for being a vulnerable target for a dignified charity establishment like the RFA.

Fear – the lingering tendrils of distress clawed at your insides, refusing to forget his white hands, his white hair, his empty eyes, the crash of glass shattering, your bruised wrists, your heightened breathing, your—

_Oh._

_I’m crying._

_…._

_I’m… crying. I’m shaking._

_I don’t know why…_

A sob stole itself into the vacancy of the night. You curled yourself tightly into a fetal position, desperately trying to stifle the mortifying noise.

_Why did I end up here? Why did this happen to me?_

Your fingers clutched your aching sides tightly, your nails planting waxing crescents on your easy flesh.

_Why don’t I deserve his compassion?_

A choked noise betrayed your scratchy throat, dispelling into the room as something nothing more than a soft wheeze.

_Why am I so stupid? What young adult female follows a stranger’s text to a foreign apartment?_

_Who am I to think that I’m important enough to be a part of any of these people’s lives?_

_I’m crying._

_I’m shaking._

_…_

_I’m crying… why does no one help?_

_I don’t deserve help._

_I deserve to cry_

_I deserve to—_

Cool hands cupped your face. Your eyes fluttered open. Your salty tears blurred the already dimly lit room.

_I’m shaking._

Two golden irises swam into your field of vision, a rosy pair of lips moving, muttering _something_ below.

_I’m crying._

_Why does no one help me?_

Something cool and fleshy knocked against your forehead. Tears still blinded you from seeing anything intelligible.

Though your ears felt full of gauze, fragments of whispered speech made their way towards you.

“…hhhh… —eathe in…. k?”

Your head pounded. The tears shook your already trembling frame. Your temple felt like it might split from the sheer emotional pressure that you still attempted to conceal. _What if Seven sees?? Then I’ll really be a burden…_

“No…. it out…. –r me, please.”

The hushed timbre of a voice you were best acquainted with through the tinny speaker of a phone suddenly became recognizable.

You forced your watery eyes to open, the tears still unyielding to a fine focused picture. But the renewed mental clarity was enough. _He was enough_.

"Seven?" You made a feeble attempt to sit up, to compose yourself, to do anything to hide your mortification that he had caught you crying—

His hands immediately tightened their gentle grip on your weak frame, holding you firmly in place.

“I—" Seven paused when your red-rimmed gaze suddenly met his fully. Though you couldn’t be sure that it wasn’t due to your own waterworks, your eyes widened further when you saw his gaze was returned to you with an unmistakable sheen to them as well.

“Please don’t cry…” Seven’s forehead was placed solidly against yours. His nose brushing the snotty tip of yours. His grip tightened minutely. “I didn’t mean to make you cry.” He whispered hoarsely.

You stilled in his makeshift embrace. Your torrent of emotions building in complexity at this most recent… yet not unwanted – development.

“It’s okay.” You finally decided.

“No, it’s not!” A stricken voice suddenly boomed in front of you, the cool forehead ripped from yours.

You flinched involuntarily, both the sound and the lack of cool pressure allowing your headache to resurface.

“Shit, no, I’m sorry.” Seven brought the corners of his palms to cover his eyes, the sloppy gesture skewing both his glasses and hair in the process. “I’m messing everything up,” he half mumbled to himself.

“…yeah.” You agreed softly without thinking twice.

You both froze.

Seven lowered his palms, his glasses still askew. You raised your eyes, meeting his self-deprecating gaze.

And then, miraculously, your star paths were knocked back into alignment.

The corners of his lips upturned in the gentlest amusement. You supplied your own involuntary grin in endearment to his apparent mirth.

Before you could crack another joke (in an unhealthy attempt to avoid talking about the situation at hand), Seven skillfully schooled his features and stood from the uncomfortable crouch that he had assumed at your side.

“Don’t be alarmed,” He walked to the other side of the bed, “I’m coming in.” The bed dipped; the covers shifted, and a warm presence announced itself behind you.

“Seven…”

“Shh.” You heard the click of his glasses folding as he took them off. A sleeved arm reached over your form and placed them on the bedside table closest to you.

“Seven…?”

“You don’t ever listen to me, do you?” He sighed good-naturally and relaxed his tense posture. His breath tickled the back of your neck. “Is this okay?” He finally whispered.

You allowed yourself a small smile, pleased that the young man felt comfortable enough around you to be vulnerable like this. “God yes.” You breathed shakily.

A soft huff. “God _7_ , yes.”

You rolled your eyes, forgetting that he wouldn’t be able to see the gesture anyway.

A thick silence fell upon the stuffy room. Your headache pounded mercilessly. Your lungs still struggled to fill to full capacity as your crying fit had effectively blocked your sinuses.

You were miserable.

You were also sad.

And you were confused, tired, a tiny bit irate, just a ton bit mortified, and worst of all, your heart still panged longingly in your hollow chest.

Just when you were about to ask Seven what the plan _now_ was, the man broke the silence.

“You…” He nuzzled just the slightest breadth away from the back of your neck, sheer millimetres between his lips and the soft skin of your neck, “You don’t understand it now…”

Your eyes were trained steadily on the wall in front of you, afraid that if you moved or confronted Seven directly, he would be scared off easily like before.

You waited patiently for him to finish his thought.

A nervous hand brushed against the curve of your waist; a touch so gentle you weren’t entirely sure it was actually there. Deft fingers curved over your side, a silent question that you readily answered by releasing a relaxed sigh and turning your hips slightly back in invitation.

The hand snaked softly around your waist and rested on the bed in front of you, the arm it was attached to now effectively holding you in a spooning embrace. A solid, lithe chest pressed gently against your back. Lips finally caressed the back of your neck.

“…but I’m trying to protect you.”

Your breath hitched.

The arm around your waist squeezed tenderly. The bed dipped again and the embrace dissolved.

Padded footsteps made their way to the door, paused, and then left.

You lay motionless on your side as a lagging tear dropped from the corner of your eye and landed on the bridge of your nose.

**Author's Note:**

> ahh hope you enjoyed this not-entirely-satisfying fic!  
> It was very cathartic to write, as I used my own experiences with crying in front of someone I loved and then not getting comfort as a tool when writing this.  
> I have a lot of emotional trauma from situations where I was emotionally vulnerable with someone that I trusted/loved, and then they just sat there watching me cry without giving me any sort of comforting touches, embraces, tenderness, or words. ;__;  
> It made me feel very helpless and alone, so while I left this purposefully unresolved, it was important to me to make sure that Seven did provide some comfort and tenderness and love to the reader. He just can't be entirely intimate with the reader/MC just yet, but worry not, he loves her deeply. <33  
> Please know that you deserve the comfort you seek, and you deserve to be with someone that can provide you with the most basic things that you need depending on your love language. My love language is heavily touch and caress-based, so that is the perspective I wrote from.  
> I hope you all enjoyed this, and please don't hesitate to request RFA x MC on my tumblr  
> have a soothing night lovelies xx


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